


speeding through red lights into paradise

by orphan_account



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Donnie is codependent but thats ok, Feel good schmoop, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mikey is understanding and sweet, tcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6787294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've always fit together. Mikey hasn't ever begrudged Raph and Leo their closeness, not really; not when he and Don have always been best friends, too. Maybe what they have isn't explosive or dramatic- it's not something Hollywood would make a movie out of, it's no epic romance worthy of a power ballad or poetry-</p><p>But good<i> lord</i>, it's a love that might make history. Mikey wants to carve it into his bones, wants Donatello's name written in every language across his ribcage, wants the world to know how deeply and truly Donnie was cherished. Put him in the books by Cleopatra, by Helen of Troy, because Mikey would launch a thousand ships for this boy in a <i>heartbeat. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	speeding through red lights into paradise

**Author's Note:**

> One of the two pieces I wrote for "Experimental Affection," the 2016 DMD anthology.

Mikey's never seen Donnie angry like _this._ Face drawn and dark, eyes black—leveling his bo at Raphael, who's sprawled on his shell on the floor of the lair, looking every bit as surprised as Mikey feels.

Leo only makes it to the room for this part, the tense stalemate that sits like a stranger between his little brothers, and stark surprise bleeds quickly into disapproval as he takes in the scene.

"Donatello! What do you think you're doing?" Whole worlds too late, Leo looks past him, at where Mikey's standing with a hand held to the throbbing ache in his cheek—an unlucky sucker-punch, courtesy of Raph's short fuse—and puts the pieces together.

But by then Don's glare is narrowed even further, and it's like windows shuttering, how fast Leo gets locked out. Don turns, tucking his staff away over his shoulder, and when he puts out his hand, Mikey reaches out to take it (and Mikey probably always will, even when his brother is almost unfamiliar in his fury, because he doesn't have anything if he doesn't have that).

"Donnie? Hey," Mikey says, giving a little tug on their hands. "Dude, talk to me."

His fingers squeeze warmly around Mikey's own, and he starts walking, in precisely the opposite direction of their other half, taking them toward the door. It's cold out, a rainy November night, and Donnie doesn't answer out loud. He just doesn't, sometimes, his brain is so big it's easy to get lost in there—but it's okay, because Mikey understands all his brothers in all their unspoken ways, and Don's face is sharp and awful, but his hand in Mikey's is familiar.

They walk the most of a mile, coming to a long-abandoned subway station that not even Leo and Raph know about. It's the B Team's very own Fortress of Solitude, their very secret, very special HQ, and the place they go when they absolutely _have_ to escape the suffocating tension of the lair. There's a loveseat and an end table, and a little, scruffy TV/VCR that Donnie liberated from a junkyard and restored.

Mikey only barely has time to look around before his brother is taking up his whole field of vision. Donnie is thrumming with tension, brown eyes bright with hurt, and the hand he cups around Mikey's face trembles.

And Mikey _understands_ , as swiftly and fully as sinking underwater. He feels himself go soft, reaches out and up to thread his arms around Donnie's neck and shoulders. Donnie leans into the embrace agreeably, hands pressing and sliding carefully across Mikey's skin, as though he had to account for every last freckle, every familiar scar.

He's so afraid, these days. So afraid of loving Mikey and losing him, to forces outside of their control. They stick close to each other on patrol, pair up during practice, and Donnie is newly protective in a way that borders on manic sometimes, when the nightmares are particularly bad- when Raphael has been particularly caustic- when Mikey gets hurt, even in small ways.

"Get out of your head, Donnie," Mikey says gently. "It's dark in there."

Donnie doesn't answer, again. Just tilts his face into Mikey's, purple and orange meeting where their brows rest together, and looks into his eyes like there's whole _novels_ to read there, like there's something really worth seeing. One hand still cradles the hurt side of Mikey's face, fingers brushing gently over the bruised skin, and then-

Then Donnie is pressing him back, crowding him against the wall, and kissing him with the same dedicated devotion he pours into books and flowcharts and all the complicated mechanics that decorate his lab back home. And Mikey _melts._ What else is he supposed to do? There are love stories, and Disney movies- and there's the way Donnie looks at him, the soft push of his lips and tongue; his hands on Mikey's hips and the perfect way they fit together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

They've always fit together. Mikey hasn't ever begrudged Raph and Leo their closeness, not really; not when he and Don have always been best friends, too. Maybe what they have isn't explosive or dramatic- it's not something Hollywood would make a movie out of, it's no epic romance worthy of a power ballad or poetry-

But good _lord_ , it's a love that might make history. Mikey wants to carve it into his bones, wants Donatello's name written in every language across his ribcage, wants the world to know how deeply and truly Donnie was cherished. Put him in the books by Cleopatra, by Helen of Troy, because Mikey would launch a thousand ships for this boy in a _heartbeat_.

"You charmer," Donnie says fondly. Mikey blinks, unaware he'd said anything out loud at all, and then his face burns. He has no clue how much of that made it past his verbal filter, and he isn't sure he wants to know. "I just had to get out of there," Donnie adds, before Mikey can be rightfully mortified. "I didn't want to say something cruel. I was afraid I would _mean_ it. He _hit_ you, and I- "

His fingers find Mikey's pulse and hold it, like a totem, the touch a gentle shackle around Mikey's wrist. And Mikey gets it. It's co-dependency, he thinks, and it's not entirely healthy, but it's their brothers' stupid fault, and Splinter's a little bit, too. Donnie's trying to be okay, but he needs Mikey for that, and Mikey is just- just totally, a hundred percent willing to be what Donnie needs. _Whatever_ he needs. Because he needs Donnie, too.

"I'd never leave you Donnie," Mikey tells him. "Never. If I ever had to go away somewhere, I'd take you with me. It's you and me, the B Team, for good. For keeps. _Forever."_

He'll say it as many times as it takes for Donnie to believe him.

They go home, sooner than later. Donnie is laughing when they walk through the door, and Mikey will ride the high of that victory for the next two days. Leo and Raph surge to their feet the moment the door swings open, but relax- veeery slooowly- at the sight of Donnie back to normal.

They apologize in earnest- sounding well-rehearsed in a way that leads Mikey to assume they'd been practicing while he and Don were gone- and Mikey waves him off when Raph takes a shame-faced step toward him. Tells him not to worry about it, to work on his swing 'cause he punches like a turtle- "y'know, the _non-mutated_ kind"- and squeezes Donnie's hand in gratitude when Don smiles wanly and says, "Sure, guys. All's forgiven."

That ugly, black anger in Donnie isn't going to go away any time soon. It's a part of him now, like that awful, trembling fear of loneliness is a part of him now. It's a package deal, and Mikey's more than happy to take it.

Because on top of everything else, Donatello is still brilliant and beautiful and brave. Right there, in front of Raph and Leo and their x-ray eyes, in front of Splinter as he comes out of his room and heads toward them, Donnie looks at Mikey with absurd, tender love blooming like spring flowers in his eyes, and tells him with absolute certainty,

"And just so you know- I'd launch a thousand ships for you, too."


End file.
